“But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!”
Luke 15:30
The older son continues to express his frustration, hurt, and perhaps even jealousy over the celebratory response his father has towards the return of the prodigal younger son.
In the ancient Jewish cultural setting, the return of a lost family member would undoubtedly be a cause for joy. Yet, not in the case of this family. By saying, “This son of yours,” he distances himself from his brother, almost disowning him. The elder brother’s years of loyalty, obedience, and hard work seem to him to go unrewarded, making the celebration for the wayward brother feel like a slap in the face.
Understanding the societal implications of the younger son’s actions is essential. He not only asked for his inheritance prematurely, which in itself was a significant affront, but he also squandered it in “wild living,” which the older son explicitly identifies as spending on prostitutes. The mentioning of prostitutes is not at all accidental and we may also safely assume that prostitutes stood in the crowd, listening to Jesus’ parable.
In the Gospel of Luke, when Jesus mentions prostitutes, He’s doing more than just referring to a marginalized group; He’s tapping into a rich tapestry of stories from Israel’s history. For instance, Rahab, a prostitute from Jericho, expresses faith in God and saves the spies, Israel, and her family. She is later heralded in the genealogy of Jesus (Matthew 1:5). Similarly, Tamar, who posed as a prostitute, through her bold faith, ensured the continuation of Judah’s lineage, ultimately leading to the birth of King David. Tamar was also mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus (Matthew 1:3).
So, when the Pharisees and religious elites of Jesus’ day scorned and shunned prostitutes, they missed the broader biblical narrative of redemption, grace, and unexpected mercy. Jesus’ inclusive approach starkly contrasted with the legalistic view, highlighting a God who doesn’t just tolerate the marginalized and sinners but actively uses them in His kingdom.
From the perspective of the religious leaders, associating with prostitutes was deeply taboo, casting shame not only on the individual but on their entire family. Thus, the elder son’s mention of prostitutes was more than just a pointed jab at his brother; it underscored the depth of shame he felt his younger brother had inflicted on their family. This mirrors the sentiment of the religious leaders in Jesus’ time, who frequently criticized Him for his interactions with prostitutes:
“If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.” (Luke 7:39)
This was a challenge to Jesus’ prophetic legitimacy. How could a true prophet of God allow a prostitute to touch him? This sentiment is rooted in the religious understanding that holiness requires separation from sin and sinners.1
However, Jesus counters this mindset throughout his ministry. By incorporating sinners such as prostitutes throughout his gospel, Luke highlights God’s universal love, grace, and the upside-down nature of the Kingdom of God, where those seen as “last” and “least” in society can be the first in the Kingdom. More specifically, Jesus underscores the point that God’s grace is available to everyone, including those society and religious leaders shunned.
Therefore, it becomes clear that Jesus is making a deliberate point. He is challenging the Pharisees’ and other religious leaders’ self-righteousness, narrow understanding of holiness, and misplaced confidence in their own status. He emphasizes that God’s love and grace extend far beyond the boundaries they have constructed and that faith, rather than societal status or perceived righteousness, is what transforms people’s lives and, therefore, what matters the most in the Kingdom of God.
The older brother leveled the same accusation at his sibling that religious legalists often hurled at sinners — squandering resources on immoral pursuits like prostitution. Yet, in the parable, the father remained unfazed. After all, it was his resources that the son had lost, not the brother. Besides, the son’s missteps were no grounds for disdain or rejection and certainly not an excuse to hate or cancel his sinful son.
The older brother brings up the celebratory meal for the second time. Despite having the means to host his own celebration, he chose not to. Who was holding him back? The younger brother certainly wasn’t in a position to host such a feast. If the older brother’s intentions were loving, he could have offered to help with the expenses, showcasing his love and appreciation for both his father and sibling. Instead, his bitterness becomes evident. It seems he hoped for his younger brother to face punishment, humiliation, and be treated as a sinnful adversary. However, the father never viewed the prodigal son as an enemy but as his cherished child.
Let’s reflect: In a similar situation, how would our hearts react? Would we mirror the older brother, holding onto self-righteous anger and distancing ourselves from those who wronged us? Or, could we channel the father’s spirit, braving societal judgment, family tensions, and personal pain all in the name of love? Faced with a chance to rejoice when those who hurt us are found alive and reconciled, would we join the celebration or stand aloof, consumed by resentment? This festive gathering is more than a son’s homecoming; it symbolizes the profound power of forgiveness and restoration.
While the verse doesn’t directly address the prodigal son’s feelings at this moment, one can imagine that having just returned from a place of deep despair, hearing such accusations—especially during a celebration in his honor—must have felt like salt being poured on fresh wounds. This situation parallels that of some Christians who, instead of protecting a sinner’s honor as Joseph did when he thought Mary had committed adultery and chose to divorce her in secret, opt to gossip and loudly proclaim the sinner’s faults in an attempt to humiliate, ridicule, shame, and cancel them.
In many ways, the older son represents the legalistic approach to religion — the belief that salvation is to be earned and kept by good deeds, loyalty, and unwavering dedication. His resentment stems from the perception that he’s been righteous and done everything by the book, yet the return home of a sinner his father chooses to celebrate reveals his true colors.
A legalist could be defined as someone who fails to understand that God’s salvation is purely by grace—the very grace they are supposed to extend to others in return. Genuine faith isn’t, “My faith gives me the right to judge others.” Instead, it should prompt us to ask difficult questions about ourselves and drive us toward self-improvement and producing the fruits of the spirit. Fortunately for the legalistic older son, the father also went outside to pursue him. God loves both sinners and legalists alike.
We often witness people who become gracious, compassionate, and loving individuals due to their past failures. These experiences taught them life lessons such as empathy, compassion, and humility. In contrast, those who have always considered themselves “perfect” frequently become prideful and self-righteous, much like the older brother in the parable.
The father’s actions reflect God’s nature — boundless, forgiving, and celebratory at the return of the lost. It underscores the idea that God’s love isn’t something to be earned but freely given, especially to those who need it the most. The killing of the fattened calf is a symbolic reminder, not of a father pouring his wrath in anger, but of the great lengths God goes to show His love and celebrate it.
The gospel of Jesus is not merely a reminder that we are sinners—we all, believers and non-believers alike, have a conscience and should already be well aware of our imperfect and limited nature. Rather, the gospel serves as a testament that God loves us despite our imperfections. His love is what gives us the power for transformation. God’s ways are not our own. While humans operate mainly in a realm of transactions, merits, and rewards, God operates mainly in a realm of grace, love, and forgiveness. It emphasizes that no one is beyond redemption and that everyone can partake in the divine feast if only they wish to, no matter their past. God always wants to party with us; it is us who often don’t.
- In biblical times, kings were anointed by men. Yet, in a beautiful twist, Jesus, the King of kings, was anointed not by the influential men of his time but by women, a prostitute included (Luke 7:36-50; Matthew 26:6-13). This is a powerful reminder of how Jesus upends societal norms, valuing the heartfelt actions of the marginalized and overlooked. It underscores that in God’s kingdom, it’s not status or gender that matters but genuine faith and love. It’s a message of hope: everyone can have a role in the Kingdom of God, no matter their background. ↩︎
Enjoyed the article? This was a copy-paste from my new micro-book, “God as Father: Unveiling God’s Love for Sinners, Outcasts, Legalists and Jerks Through the Prodigal Son“
